My Ex's Wedding: A Fake Boyfriend Romance

by Annabelle Costa

  I start to tell him he doesn’t have to leave, but he goes through the connecting door before I can get the words out, and then he’s gone. And I’m glad. I want to be alone with Nellie.

  “Are you okay?” I ask her.

  “I’ve been better,” she admits. “But yeah, I’m okay. Or I will be. You saw the video, I assume.”

  “Yeah, I did.” I frown. “Maybe that guy Blake Howard will still hire you?”

  Nellie snorts. “No. He won’t.” She sits on the edge of my bed. “But that’s okay. There will be other opportunities.”

  Will there be? I hope so. She’s so goddamn talented. I hate to think she’s blown her one shot just because she’s got some integrity.

  I chew on my lip. “What you said on that video…”

  She winces and closes her eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it. Honestly, Alex, I just want to forget this whole night ever happened.”

  “Okay,” I agree. “Done.”

  She stretches out next to me on the other side of the bed. She rests her head on the pillow, shutting her eyes. For a moment, I think about how nice it would be to wake up next to Nellie every morning.

  Nellie opens her eyes to stare at me. “Alex?” she says.

  “Yeah?”

  She reaches out and puts her hand on my forearm. I can’t feel it, but I know she can. I forget about being self-conscious about the lack of muscles in my forearm or the splint on my hand. I don’t care. I am who I am, and somehow Nellie is okay with who I am.

  “Who is your favorite Beatle?” she asks.

  “John.”

  She smiles. “Me too. Favorite Beatles song?”

  “‘While My Guitar Gently Weeps.’”

  “Ooh, good one,” she says. “Mine is ‘Eleanor Rigby.’ What’s your favorite type of cheese?”

  “Brie.”

  “Provolone.”

  I smile down at her. “Favorite fast food restaurant?”

  “McDonald’s,” she says.

  “Cliché,” I say. “But me too. They have the best fries.”

  “Incredible fries.” Her hand moves up my arm. “Favorite Marvel superhero?”

  “Spiderman.”

  “I’m partial to the Incredible Hulk,” she says.

  “Yeah, I can see why,” I laugh. “Favorite baseball team?”

  “Mets,” she says.

  “Yankees.”

  “Oh no,” she moans. “You like the Yankees? This will never work.”

  Her hand has moved to my shoulder. I hope she’s going to keep heading upward, but she leaves it there and shuts her eyes.

  “Alex?” she murmurs.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m really glad I came on this trip with you.”

  I look down at her. Her eyelids flutter slightly but remain closed. Her breathing slows as she drifts into sleep.

  “Me too,” I whisper.

  Chapter 40

  Nellie

  Where am I?

  I blink a few times, trying to orient myself. I’m definitely not in my tiny closet of a bedroom at home. And this doesn’t look like some guy’s bedroom either. It’s…

  Oh my God, Alex’s hotel room. I fell asleep next to him last night.

  I rub my eyes, realizing what woke me up—the movement on the bed. Alex is sitting at the edge of the bed, and for a moment, I can’t figure out how he’s doing it. But then I realize Doug is here too, and he’s helped him into a sitting position. He leans Alex against his chest, grabs the waistband of his boxer shorts, and shifts him into his chair. He does it easily, even though I suspect the transfer takes a lot of upper body strength.

  “Nellie.” Alex’s eyes widen as he realizes I’m awake. “Sorry, we were trying not to bother you.”

  I yawn and rub my eyes again. “That’s okay.” I glance at my watch. “Isn’t it early to be getting up?”

  “Actually,” Doug says, “I booked us an earlier flight. I figured we were skipping the wedding.”

  I laugh at that one, which sparks a sharp jab in my left temple. Hmm. I may be slightly hungover.

  Alex has got a substantial beard growing on his chin. I was right—he probably needs to shave twice a day if he’s doing something special in the evening. I love a guy with stubble on his face. It’s so sexy.

  He notices me watching him, and his cheeks color. “Did you sleep okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “I, um…” He lowers his gray eyes. “I probably should have woken you up and told you to go to your own room, but you looked so comfortable. I didn’t want to bother you. I hope that’s okay.”

  Of course it’s okay, you idiot, I want to yell at him. I’m not sorry I spent the night in his bed. I’m only sorry I passed out before I had a chance to kiss him again. All I could think about when I was going back to the hotel room last night was how much I wanted to feel his lips against mine again. I’ve been with so many guys in the past—so many failed relationships—but I’ve never felt this way before. Not about anyone.

  “It’s okay,” is all I say.

  “Good,” he mumbles.

  I glance over at Doug, who is gently stretching at Alex’s fingers. I know he means well, but his presence isn’t helping right now. I want to be alone with Alex, so I can tell him how I feel.

  No, so I can show him how I feel.

  “Doug,” I say. “Listen—”

  Except before I can get the words out, I hear a knock at the door.

  “Did you order room service?” I ask them.

  Doug shakes his head. “I’m not expecting anyone.”

  I look down and remember I’m still wearing my black dress from last night. Well, at least I’m decent. May as well open the door.

  I slide out of bed and stumble in the direction of the door. I don’t bother to ask who’s there—I just throw it open. Except when I see who’s standing there, I wish I had asked.

  It’s Isabelle.

  And she’s wearing her wedding dress.

  Chapter 41

  Alex

  Isabelle.

  Holy shit, it’s Isabelle.

  What is Isabelle doing at the door to my hotel room on the morning of her wedding, decked out in her white dress?

  My mouth falls open as I stare at her. She looks incredible. Her blond hair is piled on her head and her skin looks so white and creamy. It’s a strapless gown that shows off her soft shoulders and pushes her cleavage into plain sight. Isabelle doesn’t have tits like Nellie’s, but in that dress, they’re impressive.

  This is just how I’d imagined she’d look at our wedding. Back when that was a possibility. In another life.

  “Isabelle,” I gasp.

  She walks into the room slowly. She’s not smiling. “I’m not doing it,” she says. “I’m not going to marry Parker.”

  Jesus. Is she serious?

  “Are… are you sure?” I say, because after all this time, who can believe it?

  “He’s a cheating asshole.” Isabelle’s blue eyes darken. “I was awake all night thinking about it. I was marrying him for all the wrong reasons—because I’m thirty and felt like I wouldn’t be able to do any better. Because I want children before it’s too late. Because he makes a good living.” She takes a deep breath and stares at me. “But I never loved Parker. Not really. Not the way I…”

  She stops suddenly, glancing self-consciously at Nellie and Doug. “Listen,” she says to them, “could you give me and Alex a few minutes alone together?”

  Doug nods, but he’s not the one I’m thinking about. Nellie’s face drains of color and she’s clutching the hem of her sexy black dress. She’s looking between me and Isabelle, her brow scrunched together.

  “Five minutes,” I tell her. “That’s all we need. Okay, Nellie?”

  “Okay,” she says in a tiny voice.

  So they go. And I can’t help but wonder if I’m making a mistake.

  Now that I’m alone with Isabelle, it’s my turn to feel self-conscious. I’m only wearing an undershirt
and boxer shorts, which means there’s nothing to hide my body. She’d seen me this way four years ago, when I was first injured, but my body is different now. Back then, I still had some muscle mass in my limbs, but that’s completely gone now. I don’t look like an able-bodied guy sitting in a chair anymore—I look like a quadriplegic. I’m so far off from the Alex Warner she fell in love with—the guy who could grab her and carry her across a room like she weighed nothing. The guy who would have punched Parker Ashmont in the nose for the way he’s treated her.

  “Alex,” she says softly. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you before.”

  “That’s okay,” I say. “I don’t blame you.”

  “Also,” she adds, “I’m sorry about… well, everything else. I messed up. I shouldn’t have left you like I did.”

  “No.” I shake my head. “I messed up. I drove you away.”

  She smiles thinly. “Maybe we both messed up.”

  “Maybe.”

  “When Nellie gave that speech last night…” She closes her eyes for a second, lost in the memory. When she opens them, they’re slightly damp. “It made me realize how much was missing from my life since we broke up. I don’t know if I’ve been happy since we were together.” She takes a step toward me. “Nellie said I was nuts not to want to be with you. And she was right.”

  I almost choke. Is she saying what I think she’s saying?

  “I made a huge mistake,” she whispers. “I want to make it right.”

  She takes another step toward me and rests one of her white hands on my shoulder. She knows I can feel her there. Her hand travels up my neck, into my hair. It feels good. Really good. I never thought I’d ever feel Isabelle touching me that way again. Shit, I never thought I’d feel anyone touch me that way again—not until Nellie did it last night.

  “I want to give it another try, Alex,” she murmurs. “I want to give us another try. I still have feelings for you, and I know you have feelings for me.”

  “I…” I have to swallow hard. “Isabelle…”

  Now she’s lowering her face down toward mine. This beautiful woman wants to kiss me. And not because I’m paying her two-thousand dollars, but because she wants to do it. She wants to be with me. She’s okay with me as I am, and she wants to give our relationship another shot.

  Yet I feel myself turning my head away.

  “I can’t,” I manage. I lower my eyes, unable to look at her. “Sorry.”

  “You can’t?” Isabelle repeats. She looks astonished. I can’t blame her.

  “I just…” I look down at my lap, where my hands are resting quietly, both slightly curled up. “I have feelings for someone else.”

  Isabelle pulls away. She stares at me a moment, a sad look coming over her pretty features. “It’s Nellie, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” I admit.

  “I thought…” She frowns. “Didn’t you pay her to be here?”

  “Doug did, yeah.” As I say the words, I realize how dumb I must sound. We paid Nellie to come. That’s why she’s here. Falling in love with her was beyond stupid. Yet that’s what I’ve gone and done. I’m not just infatuated. I’m in love with Nellie Levy, and I can’t seem to turn it off. “I just feel like…”

  Christ, am I making a huge mistake here? Yes, that kiss last night was the most incredible thing I’ve ever experienced. But I’m still not certain what it was for her. Maybe it meant absolutely nothing to her.

  Yet somehow, I don’t think it meant nothing to her.

  After all, you can’t give a speech like that about someone who means nothing to you.

  “I have to see it through with Nellie,” I say. “I… I think I’m in love with her.”

  Isabelle stares at me for another second, then she plops down on the bed, her dress splaying out around her. The tears she’d been holding back spill from her eyes.

  “Worst wedding day ever,” she sniffles.

  “I’m sorry,” I say helplessly. I puff into my control to get closer to her, but that’s the best I can do. I can’t offer her a hug or even a tissue.

  She looks up and manages a tiny smile. “It’s okay. I’m actually… I’ll be fine. I know I dodged a bullet today.”

  I nod down at my wheelchair. “You may have dodged two.”

  She shakes her head. “No. Just one.”

  And then she hugs me one last time before saying goodbye.

  Chapter 42

  Nellie

  I’ve got my ear pressed against the door between the two rooms, but I can’t hear a thing.

  “They’re talking too quietly,” I complain to Doug. “What do you think that means?”

  Doug has been pressing buttons on his phone with his thumbs, maybe texting his girlfriend. He looks up and shrugs. “I don’t know. Would it be better if they were shouting?”

  “It would certainly be helpful.” I press my ear so hard against the door that it starts to hurt. “This isn’t working. What about putting a glass against the door? Do you think that would help?”

  “Uh, maybe.”

  There’s a tray of glasses on the desk in the room. I snatch one of the large glasses off the tray and hesitate. “Does the open end or the closed end go against the wall?”

  Doug smiles apologetically. “I have no idea.”

  I turn the glass in either direction, chewing on my lip. “I bet Alex would know.”

  He laughs. “Yeah. I bet he would. He kind of knows everything.”

  That was always the vibe I got about Alex, but it’s funny to hear his brother articulate it. “That must have been annoying when you were growing up.”

  “Yeah, sometimes.” He lowers his phone, his eyes growing distant with the memory. “But it wasn’t like he knew everything magically. He used to read constantly—he loved books about how things worked or anything non-fiction, really. Like, when the rest of us would be asleep in bed, he’d be under the covers with a flashlight, reading. He would pretend like he didn’t, because he wanted to be cool, but he was just this extremely smart guy.”

  “It had to have caused tension though.” I put down the glass because I don’t think there’s any chance it would work. “I mean, if I had a sibling who was so incredibly smart and successful and… good-looking…”

  And now my cheeks are on fire, which Doug seems to find amusing. “Good-looking, huh?”

  “You know what I mean,” I mumble.

  The smile fades from his face. “Alex was the best big brother I could have asked for. He would never let anyone mess with me, even if it meant he got in trouble. When we were in high school, there was this senior football player who was bullying me and the school wouldn’t do a thing about it. So Alex went right up to the guy, who was about twice his size, and punched him right in the nose and broke it.”

  “Whoa!” I grin. “So what happened?”

  Doug shakes his head. “The guy broke three of Alex’s ribs and he spent a night in the hospital. It was dumb. But he didn’t want anyone messing with his little brother, and after that, the football player left me alone.”

  “Sort of like how he saved Isabelle when he got shot,” I murmur.

  He nods. “When Alex cares about someone, he’s quick to risk everything for them. I don’t know what that mugger would have done to Isabelle, but she’s okay because of him.” He grits his teeth. “Isabelle might have walked away from him, but I never will. Never. If our parents ever can’t be there for him anymore, I will be. He can live with me if that’s what he wants.”

  I look at his phone pointedly. “And what if your future wife isn’t okay with that?”

  “I would never marry a woman who wasn’t okay with that.” Doug puts his phone down on the bed. “The bigger question is if Alex would be okay with it. My hope is he’ll find that perfect woman for him and it won’t come down to me anymore.”

  I glance at the door, still frustratingly buffering the conversation happening on the other side. I can hear literally every word spoken by my next-door neighbors at home. Why i
s this hotel wall so well insulated? “Maybe that perfect woman is Isabelle.”

  “No,” he says firmly. “It’s not Isabelle.”

  My heart speeds up. Nobody knows Alex better than his brother, so it’s heartening to hear this perfect woman may not be quite so perfect for him. “Why not?”

  He shrugs. “Isabelle is a nice person, and they might have been happy together if they got married before he got hurt. But they’re not well-suited for each other anymore. Her dream is to travel the world, and he spent an hour ranting to me yesterday that he was never getting on a plane ever again. She always looked like she was going to have a mental breakdown anytime she had to help him with the slightest thing. It would be a disaster if they got back together.”

  I remember the way Isabelle paled whenever she was left alone with Alex. It must have been agonizing for him. “You really think so?”

  We both look at the glass in my hand, that I’d been hoping might help me listen to their conversation. What are they saying in there? I saw the look in Isabelle’s eyes and I know what she was thinking. She wants him back.

  “I do think so,” Doug says. “Also, I think there’s someone he likes better…”

  I lower my eyes. “Not better than Isabelle.”

  “Come on,” he snorts. “You think I haven’t seen the way the two of you have been slobbering over each other since we got here?”

  I know I’ve been slobbering over Alex. But was he into me? I’d assumed he was too focused on Isabelle. “God, what are they talking about in there for so long?”

  “If you’re so curious,” he says, “open the door. Tell Isabelle to lay off your boyfriend.”

  I laugh, although it comes out strangled. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “He will be if you open the goddamn door and say that.”

  I look at the door. Should I? There’s no denying it—I’ve got it bad for Alex Warner. I don’t know if he’s The One. The guy who will put an end to the bad dates forever. But I know I’ve never met anyone I’ve felt this way about before, and it’ll be devastating if he leaves here with Isabelle as his girlfriend again. Especially if I had a chance to stop it from happening.